


Let Them Eat Cake

by parisian_girl



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: And a Little Hint of Smut, Birthday Cake, F/M, Fluff, Phryne Tries to Bake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-31 01:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17839592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parisian_girl/pseuds/parisian_girl
Summary: It's Jack's birthday, and Phryne tries a surprise...





	Let Them Eat Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TorieGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TorieGirl/gifts).



> Happy birthday TorieGirl! 
> 
> Fluff, a hint of smut and lots of birthday cake (it was easier to write cake than make it and send it 😂). Enjoy, everyone!

His nose picked up on her presence first. Stepping in quietly through his own front door, he caught it, lingering in the air; expensive French perfume and the underlying scent that was all hers, and he smiled. However careful she was about leaving no trace, he could always tell. And besides, this time the perfume was mixed in with something else. Something emanating from the kitchen. Something that smelled distinctly like….

“Phryne?”

She was sitting at the kitchen table. One of Dot’s aprons covered most of her silk blouse, but not quite enough; a smear of cake mixture clung to the corner of her collar. The table itself barely visible, weighed down with bowls, spoons, a set of scales, packets of flour and sugar and empty cartons of eggs. One of the bowls, he saw, was still half full of raw cake mixture, but taking pride of place was a plate. An ornate, delicately patterned plate that he suspected had been intended to display an equally beautiful cake. Instead, it was covered in pieces of cake, some larger than others, and Phryne was scowling at it with the same degree of malice that he had thought she only reserved for her father. 

“Is…” He hesitated. “Is everything alright?”

She turned the scowl on him, and it was only then that he saw the tiny smidgen of cake mixture on her nose.

“Does it look like it?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. She looked adorable when she was grumpy. 

“It looks like a bomb has hit my kitchen, actually.”

“Flour has a mind of its own, Jack, did you know that?”

“No,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh. “No, I can’t say I did.”

“Not to mention the damn eggs. I mean, how are you supposed to break them into the bowl without getting half the shells in there too?”

“There must be a way, I suppose.”

“Well, I haven’t found it.” She pouted. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but…” She gestured, a wide sweep of her arm that took in the carnage surrounding her. “And then I forgot to grease the pan.” She pointed at the plate. “I had to dig it out of the tin with a spoon.”

“A surprise for what?”

“Jack!” Phryne looked up at him, askance. “It’s your birthday tomorrow. That’s what for. Or _was_ what for.” She huffed back in her chair, folding her arms crossly over her chest. “I didn’t want to ask Dot to do it.”

He smiled then, understanding exactly what it was that she wasn’t saying, reading every space between her words. She had wanted to make him something herself. She had wanted to show him that she could do domestic bliss just as well as she could shoot a gun or pick a lock. He knew how much she worried sometimes, even now, that somehow she wasn’t good enough for him, that in fact what he needed was someone more….well, _traditional,_ and it astonished him every time. Every time, it reaffirmed his belief that he had never met anyone quite like her and never would again, and every time it made him even more determined to show her just how much he wanted and needed _her._ Not anyone else. Her.

This time was no different.

“Phryne…” He walked over to stand beside her chair, trying not to chuckle at the petulant, sticky mess she presented, and leaned down to kiss the cake batter off her nose. She wrinkled it as he did so, and he followed it up with a long kiss on her lips. He had intended to tell her how much he loved her just as she was, that she didn’t need to prove anything, that he didn’t need her to make cake for him, but instead he caught the tell-tale hint of sweetness on her tongue, a hint of lemon on her lips, and he smiled. “You’ve been eating the batter.”

“Umm-hmm.” She nodded, her grump reluctantly dissolving into a childlike, cheeky grin. “It doesn’t taste bad. It just looks awful.”

“It tastes wonderful.”

She giggled, and broke away from him to dip her finger into the bowl that was still half full. “It made too much. I’m sure I followed the recipe Dot gave me, but…” She shrugged, and stuck her finger in her mouth, rolling her tongue around it to catch every last bit. He swallowed.

“Any of that for me?”

She smirked and stuck her finger in the batter once more, holding it out for him laden with the mixture. Taking the bait, he leaned forward, catching it in his mouth. Her eyes flashed dark as she felt his tongue, and he felt a rush of warm satisfaction mixed with the distinct beginnings of arousal creeping through him. It was so easy, with her. He never tired of it. Neither, it seemed, did she.

“Not bad, Miss Fisher.” He smirked as he let her finger pop out of his mouth. He loved to tease her. “A couple of lessons from Dot, and you’ll be volunteering for the next church fair.”

She glared at him, but her eyes were dancing and he didn’t see it coming before it was too late. Her hand was quick. In and out of the bowl, and he felt the lump of batter hit him square on the cheek. He spluttered, took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes, she was right there, mere breaths away from him, smirking as she tiptoed up to press hot lips on his skin, her tongue licking almost greedily.

“I should have aimed lower.”

“Perhaps the church fair isn’t such a good idea.”

“No.” She shook her head, a voice a murmur as her lips trailed down his jaw. “Far too scandalous.”

He let his hands slip to her waist, feeling blindly for the ties that held the apron fast at the back. “Not to mention the clearing up.”

“Hmmm.” Her fingers were toying with the top button on his shirt. “Later.”

“You know you didn’t have to do anything for my birthday.” His lips found hers again, and his hands slipped the apron off before pulling her close, catching her gasp with his mouth. “You’re all the present I want.”

She broke off the kiss, but pressed her body hard into his so that this time it was his turn to breath in, sharp and quick, as he felt her. All of her. “That’s very romantic, Jack.” Her voice was a purr, but he could sense the emotion behind it and he held her where she was, so close.

“It’s true.”

“Does that mean you won’t be eating the rest?”

“I didn’t say that.” He lowered his lips to hers. “But maybe we could save that for later too?”

“Why, can’t you do more than one thing at a time?”

He growled against her lips. Somehow, she did this. Turned everything into a sensual delight, and he loved her for it. He felt her smile against his lips. 

“Happy birthday, Jack.”


End file.
